Red and Lil Bit
by BreezipartII
Summary: The world had gone to hell. Carrie had accepted that. Now, she needed to figure out how to survive. When she meets up with a ragtag group of fellow survivors, including an enigmatic crossbow wielding man with blue eyes, she thinks she may have just found the key to getting by in this crazy new world. Sorry. I am so bad at summaries.
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own The Walking Dead, neither the show nor the comic books. This is purely to suit an idea that came into my head a refused to leave. **

**A/N: This story begins during season one of the show. Bear with me at some moments when it seems like I am rehashing the episode. I am trying to integrate my O/Cs into the story with as little change as I can. At least to start with. The changes will start to come later on in the story, and mainly with Daryl. **

**As any author does, I crave feedback and constructive criticism. Please review what you read. Thank you so much and I hope that you enjoy my story!**

**RED AND LIL BIT**

**Chapter One:**

There are different types of people in the world. There are those who fall apart during crisis. They lose it. Can't function. Can't cope or handle the truth of the situation surrounding them. They just—shut down. There are those who step easily into the role of leadership. They slide to the front of the line and take control as though control were a second skin custom made for them. Then, there are those who do well when they have a purpose. They are doers. They can make things happen, but not on their own. They need someone around to tell them what to do.

When the world went to hell, those personality traits all became blaringly apparent.

A hatchet clutched in one hand and wincing just a little as broken shards of glass crunched under her boot soles, Carrie stepped as gently as possible, hating every noise that she made. She liked to consider herself a doer who wasn't afraid to make the leading decisions when they needed to be made. For the moment, thank God, that responsibility rested on someone else's shoulders.

There were five of them, including Carrie. Their leader was Daniel. He was the one calling all the shots and so far, he was doing a decent job of it. As decent a job as any man could do with a ragtag group of people that had only met four days previous. He sure as hell looked the part. He was tall, well over six feet, blond and built like he had been pro-wrestler in their past lives. Beside him up front was Andre'. Andre' was smaller than Daniel, lean and wiry with olive skin and a kind of skittish energy, like a young green-broke colt that may or may not bolt at any given moment. Bringing up the rear of their little traveling party was Jacinta. She was a big boned woman with frizzy brown hair and freckles. She had a pretty smile and a great laugh, though. Carrie liked her.

But the absolute most important member of their band of merry men, at least in Carrie's estimation; the reason she had secured herself in the middle of the pack, was tucked in right by her side.

April was six years old, towheaded and the smartest little girl Carrie had ever encountered in her twenty-seven years on this planet. She didn't cry. She didn't whimper or complain. She didn't ask unnecessary questions. At the tender age of six, she seemed to possess some king of inherent understanding of the way this new world worked. She was born to survive. Carrie would watch the others' backs the same way that they would watch hers, but when it came down to herself of them, she would choose herself.

April was different. April, she would sacrifice herself for.

Even thinking about such a thing, Carrie felt the need to touch her. To make sure that she was still there. So, she reached over and gave the little girl's tiny shoulder a squeeze.

Her small, round, cherubic face tilted up. She smiled at Carrie, then hooked her little fingers through the belt loop of Carrie's jeans.

The peaceful moment was broken by the sound of shuffling feet and a faint groaning in the distance. Without needing any urging, April moved closer to Carrie's hip. Daniel held up a hand in the universally understood signal for 'stop.'

"Dead-head," he hissed, raising the machete he carried.

They each had at least one gun, but it was accepted that they would not use them unless there were no other options; the need being to conserve ammo, a limited resource, and to avoid the consequences of such loud noise. The corpse was a female. At some point her floral print dress had most likely been quite attractive. In her life, she had probably been a mother. A good one. The kind who baked homemade brownies and sewed all of her kids' Halloween costumes. It seemed no more than a moment passed between the time it took Daniel to bury his machete in her head than the group realized that they were surrounded. No. Surrounded isn't the right word. They were swarmed.

Carrie was swinging her hatched at any damn thing that got near her or April. Jacinta had pulled her gun. From the corner of her eye, Carried watched as a corpse bit down on the back of Daniel's neck and dragged him to the ground where five others were on him in a blink.

Damn it.

Where the hell was Andre'?

It didn't take long for Carrie to spot him. He was hiding under a nearby car. Couldn't fault the guy for trying to survive at any cost but that was enough that she knew she didn't want him to be the one watching her back. When she heard the wrenching, gurgling scream behind her, she knew the Jacinta had gone down.

Screw this.

In one fluid motion, she sheathed her hatchet and un-holstered her glock. She then popped the three dead-heads to her right, swung April up into her arms and ran. She weaved her way through rows of abandoned cars. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she registered the disappointment that she didn't have time to scavenge for supplies. She acknowledged it, discarded it and darted off into the woods.

By God, she would not let that child become one of those drooling, mindless, lifeless monsters.

She zigged. She zagged. And when she was too winded to go any farther, she swung around, aiming her gun in all directions to make sure that she had the time to catch her breath and take stock of her surroundings. There were no dead-heads in her immediate area, but that didn't mean there weren't any nearby. That in mind, she turned her eyes to the trees.

It took seven of the longest minutes of her life, but she found the perfect tree. She could reach the bottom branch only if she jumped and up top, there were three branches at an upward angle and close enough in proximity that she could wedge herself and April in and be secure for the night.

"Alright, Lil Bit," she said, "we're gonna climb this tree. All the way to the top. You up for it?"

"I can do it."

"That's my girl."

It was a slow and complicated ascent. Carrie would first hoist April up, make sure she was steady and had a good hold, then haul up herself, along with the army green duffle of supplies she carried. When she reached the triple branch seat, it was barely big enough to accommodate her hips. That was good. It wouldn't be the most comfortable sleeping arrangement, but at least it would be secure. She tied the duffle to an outer branch, dragged a pale blue, ratty old blanket from inside of it, settled into her perch with April in her lap. She drew the blanket over the both of them and within minutes, he little charge was in a deep, exhausted slumber.

With the sounds of shuffling and groaning coming from below, it took Carrie a lot longer to find sleep.

It seemed she had no more than closed her eyes that the sun stirred her awake.

She woke April up and watched as her sweet little girl blinked awake, rubbing at her eyes with small, clenched fists and opening her mouth wide in a yawn. The two shared a can of pineapple slices for breakfast. After that, Carrie strapped the duffle bag to her back and climbed down the tree in the opposite way that she had climbed up. She lowered herself and then helped April down. When she reached the ground, she drew her hatchet and turned a circle before putting the weapon away and holding her arms up to the little girl.

"C'mon, Lil Bit."

April grinned from ear to ear, one deep dimple in her left cheek. Then she launched herself from the lowest branch into Carrie's waiting embrace. She giggled. Like it was a game or something. Carrie felt a warmth in her chest that this little child, despite everything she had already been through in her young life, could still find joy in something as simple as the feeling of falling. And that she knew that Carrie would catch her. Carrie would always catch her.

Then, hands tightly clasped in one another's, they started walking.

**A/N: Well, that's it for now. Just kind of a basic introduction to my two O/Cs. I hope you enjoyed meeting them. Any reviews are appreciated. Thanks!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Still do not own The Walking Dead. Kinda wish I did. Probably be rich. And have access to Norman Reedus. Ah, well. Such is life. **

**A/N: So, I have recently begun to really enjoy the pairing of Daryl with Beth. I was never really a fan of Carol. I get that a lot of people are and please don't hate me for saying it, but I just never really saw it. I am really rooting for them in the show and I hate that (spoiler if you haven't seen **_**Alone **_**yet) they got separated. I hope the show keeps her around and that they can explore the new dynamic between them. I feel like she brings out a very compassionate side to Daryl that I would love to see more of. I wouldn't mind toying with a fic for the two of them in the future, but right now my mind is too full of the idea of Carrie. Anyway, as mentioned previously, please review. I do appreciate any kind of feedback that I can get and if there are any questions or comments that you want to make, I am always happy to try and address them. Thank you so much for taking the time to read my work. I hope you enjoy. **

**Chapter Two:**

It had been three days. Three days of walking through the woods. Three days of haphazard sleep in the branches of trees and ditches. All Carrie could think about was that she needed to find a shelter of some kind. She needed somewhere that she and April could hunker down for a little while and get some kind of rest. She just wanted to breathe.

A loud clanging sound, like wind-chimes almost, pulled her from her thoughts. Her gaze cut to April, who in turn was staring down at a string that she had apparently walked into. The clanging sound was made by the row of cans attached to the string. That was when Carrie heard the very distinct sound of footsteps. Running footsteps.

Without taking a second to hesitate, Carried dropped her duffle to the ground, backed April to a tree and stepped in front of her. Adrenaline pumping like fuel through her veins, she pulled both her glock and her hatchet and prepared herself to face whatever came through those trees.

It was a person that came into sight. A _living _person. Carrie wanted to cry out in relief. But the dark haired, dark eyed, well-built man was pointing a gun at her head and pure instinct had her aiming hers right back at him. His eyes widened so that she could see the whites around him and he quickly spread his hands wide and removed his fingers from the trigger, indicating that he was no longer a threat. Carrie wasn't so quick to trust a stranger in this day and age. She just held her gun steady, aiming right for his chest. A second man appeared from behind the dark haired man. He was a goofy fishing hat and had white facial hair and kind eyes. He held his hand out to her as though she were a skittish horse.

"Whoa," the second man said, "easy." His eyes dropped and those already warm eyes softened even more, "Well, hello, there."

Carrie didn't need to look down to know that April had peeked her head out from behind her hip. A slim brunette appeared behind the two men. "Oh, my God," the brunette breathed, "Are they alright? Are you alright?"

"You stay back," Carrie said, thrilled that he voice didn't tremble over the words.

"No one here means you any harm, miss," the second man said, "I'm Dale. This is Shane and that's Lori. What's your name?" When Carrie didn't answer, he went on, "Are you or your little girl hurt?" She said nothing. "Are you hungry? We have food."

"It's okay," the woman, Lori said, taking a step forward, "It's as safe as it can be here. Come on."

Finally, shakily, as though thing weighed a good solid ton, Carrie let the gun fall to her side. "Carrie." She said, "I'm Carrie. This is April."

"Wonderful to meet you, Carrie and April." Dale said with a smile, "Let us help you get your stuff."

And just like that, Carrie and April found themselves sitting by a campfire with the largest group of people she had come across since the world had ended. The only thing that gave her the slightest pause was the sight of a man, kind of off away from camp, tied to a tree. Shane walked over and cut him loose soon enough and the man, a scarecrow looking fella named Jim, he didn't seem upset about it. They all seemed to be a genuinely good group of people. Maybe there was some hope for the world after all. They explained to her that some of their people had gone into the city on some kind of an errand. She didn't feel like they were giving her the whole story there, but it wasn't any of her business anyhow. Couldn't drag her anywhere near that city. By sundown, she was sitting in a circle with them all, around a lovely crackling campfire, eating fresh caught fish. Carrie felt herself start to relax for the first time in—well, she couldn't remember how long it had been.

The lady to her right, Carol, smiled at her and gestured to where April sat beside her own daughter, Sofia. "That's a beautiful little girl. She's yours?"

"She is now." Carried said after swallowing a bite of fish, amazed at how immediate she felt the energy that the protein was supplying to her body. As the words came from her lips, she noticed that she had drawn the attention of several members of the group. She cleared her throat and rested her plate on her knees, "It was early on. They were still tellin' people to make their way to one of the shelters, ya know. The safety zones. What a load of crap. Um, my brother and I, we lived on opposite sides of the state. We decided that we would head for the shelter in Atlanta. Meet up there. Surely they had ways of keeping track of people once we got there. They could help us find each other. Not much of a plan, but it was all that we had. Maybe we were bein' naïve. Anyway, I get outside from where I'd been holed up in my apartment—and it's just—chaos. People bleedin' and screamin' and runnin'. Bitin' each other. I look over and I see this little girl. Tiny little thing. And she had a toy stroller that she was usin' to keep one of those things away from her. After I bashed its head in with a crowbar, she tells me that that thing was her momma." Carrie took a breath to cast a glance over at April, "Smart as hell, that girl. Most kids her age, they see their momma, they run right into her arms without thinkin' twice. April didn't. She somethin' was off. She knew that, momma or not, that woman wanted to hurt her. Been with me ever since. Like I said, she's mine now."

"Now's what counts." This was from Dale, "You did a good thing."

"I like to think anybody would have. Of course, nowadays, I don't know. Doesn't matter, though. I love her."

Dale smiled at her and it was as though the sun had burst open in her chest. Her entire body filled with warmth at the idea that this man, this wizened old soul approved of her. It was an indescribably feeling. He was still smiling when the man, Morales, asked him about his watch and how he continued every day to wind it. Others joined in on the gentle ribbing. Again, Carrie let herself sit back, take another bite of fish and relax. She listened eagerly as Dale went on to wax poetic about time and relationships and what it all meant in the grand scheme of things. The man had a beautiful, soothing kind of voice. She let herself bask in the serenity of the night. She took comfort and solace in the company of these people; this new group that she had stumbled upon; this new shelter. Finally, after months of horror and stress and fear and turmoil, finally a moment of peace.

That was when the screaming started.

It was Amy. Young. Pretty. Sweetheart. A corpse, a walker as this new group referred to them, had taken her by surprise. It caught hold of her as she was coming from the RV and ripped a chunk of flesh right out of her arm. And more were shuffling into the camp.

It seemed thing went downhill from there. Everybody scattered, screamed, fought back as best they could. Carrie found herself beside Shane, April tucked into with Carl and Sophia, between herself, Shane, Carol and Lori. She never remember every detail of what happened. She was taking shots and swinging at anything that got too close. The noise was deafening. Screams and gunfire and scraping. There was blood everywhere. Fresh blood from people she had meet only hours ago and old partially coagulated blood of the long dead. Somewhere along the line, the smell had shifted. Where she had closed her eyes earlier and breathed in the smell of campfire and cooking fish, but she smelled only death and rot and the strong, pungent odor of terror; her own and everyone else's.

After what seemed an eternity in a losing battle, help arrived.

There were four of them. They rushed into the camp, guns blazing like the four horsemen of the apocalypse. They must be the group that she had been told about. The men who had gone into Atlanta.

Carrie was thankful that they showed up when they did. She didn't know how much longer this group could have held out without the assistance. As it were, they didn't hesitate, didn't pause to take stock of the situation, they just came in and cleared the walkers out. It all seemed to be over pretty quickly once they had arrived. Thank goodness.

The noise all seemed to end at once. The screaming, the groaning, the gunfire; it all just—stopped. And the silence of the aftermath was so much louder than the actual battle had been.

Because, in the aftermath, it was time to tally up the casualties.

And Jim, the lean, scarecrow of a man who had been tied to that tree, he said in a soft, flat tone, "I remember my dream now. Why I dug those holes."

**A/N: Well, again, that's it for now. It felt like the right place to end this chapter. But, obviously, we know that Daryl is amongst the saviors so I promise that he will be in the next chapter. Please, please, please, I cannot stress enough, please review and let me know what you think. Am I wasting my time? Thanks for reading! **


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